


A Silhouette Against Blue Light

by Eilwen



Series: A Tourist and A Native [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:38:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9102784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilwen/pseuds/Eilwen
Summary: “You’re... quiet this time.”Tina grins. “I’m just thinking about how wonderful you are.” She kisses him, re-igniting the fire in them both. She struggles to remove her own coat and throws it to the side. He equally drops his own to the floor. She leans back and lies on the bed, her arms once again around his neck as he hovers above her.Outtake from 'A Selfish Wandering Tourist'





	

**Author's Note:**

> This mostly consists of the missing chunk from 'A Selfish Wandering Tourist'. I had written about 1000 words before I realised that the tone of the bigger main fic didn't match with the smuttiness of this. Hopefully this should be entirely understandable as a stand-alone but there are definitely references to 'Wandering Tourist'.
> 
> It is what it is.

Newt and Tina apparate into Newt’s hotel room, nearly stumbling into the hotel desk. Tina laughs as she clings to his arms.

“Right, one second.” Newt puts his case in the corner and pats it. “Please stay still.”

He returns to Tina, who stands carefully at the edge of the bed.

“Umm... boots.” He kicks his shoes off and moves to hang his coat. Tina grabs onto his sleeve and turns him to face her, immediately calming him down. Newt gazes into her brown eyes, his breath deep and loud. She melts as she returns his hungry stare. Newt is not much taller than Tina, barely an inch, yet he seems to tower over her now with a seriousness that she never sees outside the bedroom.

He kisses her, lightly at first, then deeper, then desperate. He feels her wanting more as her hands move upwards, along his chest to wrap around his neck. He walks towards the bed, holding her tightly by the waist. Their lips disconnect as she falls first onto the mattress. He kneels over her with his knees bracing her legs on either side. He undoes his bowtie and peels his coat off, carefully this time.

A little squeak. Pickett.

“Excuse me.” He lifts himself off Tina with a groan and his right hand moves to the coat’s breast pocket. “Pickett, I... need a bit of privacy again tonight.”

Tina removes her shoes and socks and watches him move to from the bed to his case.

He opens his case, and with some persuasion, places Pickett inside and locks the case once more. He turns to face Tina again, the now Pickett-free coat draped on his arm. His hair is disheveled, more so than usual. Unconsciously, Tina removes her own hat from her head.

“No, let me.” He takes the hat from her hands and places it on the desk. “You’re... quiet this time.” It’s true – usually they are flirtatious with each other. Sometimes clumsily so. They’re so physically familiar with each other at this point, however that Newt is unafraid of her body and his own nudity.

Tina grins. “I’m just thinking about how wonderful you are.” She kisses him, re-igniting the fire in them both. She struggles to remove her own coat and throws it to the side. He equally drops his own to the floor. She leans back and lies on the bed, her arms once again around his neck as he hovers above her.

He pauses and barely withdraws to catch his breath a little but nips at her top lip, her jaw, behind her ear. She breathes heavily in response. Newt's skin is on fire. Tina's fingers scramble to find his waistcoat buttons. Her mouth catches his again and she bites at his bottom lip earning a soft groan from him. It registers in his mind briefly, that they are lit only by the lights outside their window. The neon sign ‘HOTEL’ flickers, shining white and blue on their skin.

Newt tugs her shirt, pulling it up, untucking it from her work pants and his hands wander beneath it, over her brassiere. His thumb skims the simple lace that traces the edge. Tina lifts herself off the bed slightly as his hands roam to the back searching for the clasps. He undoes it and bravely his lips drift lower, from her chin to her neck and even to the buttons of her still unremoved shirt. Her brassiere is now loose, though trapped around her arms. Regardless, his lips continue lower and his hands mould themselves around her free breasts.

“Newt,” she gasps, feeling the roughness of his palms. Newt feels himself harden at the needy sound of his name. His own desire strains against his trousers. His hands continue to explore, finally unbuttoning her bunched-up shirt as his mouth connects with a nipple.

She moans softly at the feeling. He doesn’t waste time however – a quick kiss as a promise to continue soon and he rises.

One of his hands moves and parts her legs. He settles between them, gripping her hips instinctively, slowly grinding himself against her growing wetness. She moans, finding their clothed bodies still annoying, though she rubs against him too, building friction and pressure through their clothing. She's exposed – her breasts now cooling from the drying saliva, so she makes a point to tug at his waistcoat.

He chuckles and removes it, then his own shirt. Her hands dance lightly along his chest before finding their grips on his arms. His body is decorated with scars – claw marks, burns, bites. His skin is soft in some places and hard in others. He feels her touch more on some of the scars and on others he can barely feel a thing.

He takes one of her hands and lightly kisses the palm of her hand. He reaches to remove her pants and she lifts her hips then her legs to assist him. Newt kisses the hem of her loose cotton thigh-length panties. Tina squirms in response and he takes it as a challenge to press his lips firmly against her thighs, pushing the fabric upwards until he is dangerously close to her heat.

Newt observes her response – the occasional whimpers. Her closed eyes that flutter when she feels something good. His fingers search, pushing the fabric aside to touch her slit. At this, her eyes open again and her moans are more vocal. Tina moves, hoping to encourage him to continue but he inserts only the tip of his right middle finger into her before withdrawing.

His hair covers his eyes and the darkness doesn’t allow her to see beneath his messy bangs. It is his smirk, devilish and sly - a naughty boy’s expression, that says it all.

His hands hook around the side of her panties and he pulls, slowly letting the elastic drag torturously against her skin. His right middle finger draws along her left hip, and she feels the hint of her own wetness traced on her. She shifts to finally remove her shirt and her brassiere completely leaving her entirely naked in front of him. Her skin is clear not yet marred by battle wounds Aurors tend to get.

“You are wondrously beautiful,” he finally says (he will say this even in future years when her body ages, and gains its own scars). Even though he has remarked on her beauty before, she flushes red every time.

“Prettier than an Opaleye?” she jokes.

“A thousand times more so.” And he lays his body atop hers, their chests pressing against each other. His erection is once again against her, pushing against her clit. As their mouths once again find each other, her hands take the chance to drift lower down his back to beneath his trousers. She is the one now non-verbally asking for him to be as naked as she is, but he stubbornly groans into her mouth and instead, moves his hip aside to slip his fingers into her folds. His fingers pump in and out and his thumb makes small circles on her clit.

“Newt. I - Newt,” she calls out once more, her cries becoming louder and more open.

This is not new for him. He knows what she likes. What makes her excited. But each time, it feels like he is somehow rediscovering her. They try new things, continue old things. There are days when she explores his skin and days when he explores hers.

Tina pushes against him, her hands gripping the sheets beneath them as she softly hums her pleasure. His fingers are well lubricated with her arousal, as he draws out each little whimper. Without any warning, he removes his thumb and gives an open-mouthed kiss onto her swollen bud, licking, sucking and exploring every little crevice with his tongue. He doesn’t look at her face – instead he focuses on his task. Sometimes he teases her – other times, like tonight he gives her everything and she feels herself rising.

It’s a ridiculous sight, she thinks, to see him so openly explicit, but her back arches. Electricity runs through every inch of her body and suddenly she is panting loudly for air, her fingers running though his hair as she grinds against his face. It’s messy as his saliva mixes with her juices, but he doesn’t stop until she dissolves into a puddle.

He sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Tina’s chest heaves.

“Not fair,” she covers her eyes with a tired laugh.

“Fair.” He sits back on his haunches, watching her skin glow in the aftermath of her orgasm.

He kisses her again after some time. Tina takes the opportunity to once again find the buttons of his trousers. He lets her, this time and finally he strips, to match her nudity. Tina sits up to properly observe. Her skin still tingles but she feels her excitement start anew when she sees how hard he really is. His cock is thick and stiff, even when his attention is on trying to wring away the trouser leg still hooked onto his foot.

When he’s finally free he climbs back onto the bed. Before he can refocus on Tina, she grasps his cock and slowly strokes. Her fingers touch the head, spreading his precum around the tip. She feels the veins, the hair at the base. He’s warm. He does not say much, but he exhales deeply. His hands stop her before she can go any further.

“I want you to be selfish tonight,” he says plainly, his light tone and voice contrasting the sexual intention.

There’s a pause before Tina responds very simply: “OK,” and she moves, straddling him with his back against the foot of the bed. Newt’s hands automatically move up to her waist. She feels his cock against her inner thigh.

Newt’s swallows in anticipation. She grips him and tries to position him at her entrance. He assists, one hand at his own cock, the other at her waist. He pushes shallowly at first, as if to test the waters, and gradually he’s entirely inside of her. Their foreheads press against each other in relief. She moves to hug his head, her face against his hair, breathing in the strange scents – his own and the rustic mysteries that she knows are from his time inside the suitcase. It’s intoxicating. His face is buried into the crook of her neck and he breathes in the familiar and comforting smell of soap and the light perfume she applies on herself every day. She’s tight and warm and incredibly wet and when she shifts, he feels it and groans.

He is the first to make the move, lifting her just slightly and pushing back into her. She mutters a small ‘Yes,’ indicating that her own discomfort is gone. In fact, she feels incredible – each movement sends waves through her. He does it again and again, slowly at first. As her moans become louder, he responds with each thrust becoming firmer and harder. The bed complains by creaking. Newt hits his head lightly against the iron base of the bed after attempting to shift his angle.

“Are you all right?” Tina says as Newt’s hands automatically go to his head.

“Ah.... Came out of nowhere.”

Tina laughs, kissing his head and places a pillow behind his head. The odd, intimate but comforting act contrasts with the simple fact that Newt is still inside her, throbbing, and she is aching for the pressure to be relieved. She rotates her hip to get his attention and he throws his head back in pleasure, this time on the soft pillow.

“Are _you_ all right?” Newt asks, looking up at her. She is silhouetted in the neon blue light.

“Yes. More than all right.”

Newt’s hands grip her hips and he begins to move again. Tina gasps at a particular good stroke and leans back until her hands grip his knees and moves against him. Newt sighs at her display. She takes his hand and presses it against her breast – not for him to cup it but for him to feel her heart. It beats fast but steadily. He does not say anything, but finds strange comfort in the idea that her heart beats in time with his. 

“Newt...” she whimpers and her body twists in a beautiful way. He feels he might be close. Not wanting to finish before her, Newt stretches, slipping out her briefly to kiss her once more. He shifts their position so she could be on her back and him above her. He enters her again but this time, his hand searches between them to find her clit and rubs. He pumps his cock into her, slowly at first, then harder again, pressing his pelvis flush against her.

His thumb lightly skims her clit, then he applies pressure, then back to light fluttery touches. Her fingers dig into his back as her own responses melt into weak moans.

She widens her legs and rolls her hips urging him to go faster. He grunts, almost whines at the feeling, the free hand bracing himself above her, gripping the sheet beside her head.

"Tina."

"Keep going. Don't stop."

Finally she comes, calling his name, her hands gripping tightly on his back. She squeezes and releases around his cock, milking him. Her limbs become useless as he thrusts several more times. Newt buries his face into the pillows and goes still.

He comes soon after - her name also escaping his lips.

He collapses onto her for a few breaths before shifting to lie beside her. Her own breathing is short as she reaches aimlessly to take his hand.

“I’m sore,” she says finally.

“I’m sorry. I should have been a little gentler. ”

“No. In a good way.” She brushes the hair that’s stuck to his forehead. He’s so sweaty that she can almost dress his hair to stand, revealing his full face.

They lie together in silence. Sometimes they banter during these moments, but this time, they enjoy each other’s presence. For Newt, the thought crosses in his mind that he is leaving that weekend. The air suddenly feels heavy around him, pre-maturely missing Tina even though she’s right next to him. He wonders if Tina is thinking the same thing.

Newt gazes up at the ceiling above him. Occasionally, an automobile passes and he sees the lights shift across the ceiling, right to left. He listens to Tina’s breathing that evens out once she falls asleep. Newt watches her, observing every little mark on her face, her neck, her body, relearning her features all in the blue light before he begins dreaming as well.

* * *

Tina is the first to awake in the middle of the night, her thighs aching and her body sticky. She shifts and feels a weight over her stomach – Newt’s arm. He’s usually a light sleeper, as if attentive ears are useful whenever he might be in the jungle or out in the desert, but tonight, he’s positively knocked out. She slips away and pads quietly to the bathroom to clean up.

When she finishes, she stands by the doorway. The hotel sign continues to blink brightly from outside and she’s tempted to close the curtains to block out the headache-inducing light until she sees a miniature version of her copy of Newt’s book on the floor next to her coat. She had shrunk it to fit into her pocket. She taps it with her wand with a quiet ‘ _Engorgio_ ’ and kneels beside the bed beneath the bright neon light. She opens it to the page on unicorns, then to the front of the book where Newt's handwritten scribblings are.

_Tina,_

_I love you._

_Forever yours,  
Newt._

Tina touches the ink. The deep imprint of the quill into the paper with a blot at the ‘I’, as if he had to find the courage to write out the full sentence. No fancy words. No poetry.

“I really do.”

Tina nearly screams as she jumps up. Newt watches her with humoured eyes, his head still on his pillow.

“Mercy, you frightened me,” she says, gripping her chest.

“You’re an Auror, Tina.”

“Aurors are not typically attacked naked.” She covers her chest and her lower half with her hands as if they had not had sex only hours ago.

Newt stretches, his body unfurling in the darkness. His hand pats lightly at the space beside him and Tina crawls back into bed and curls against him. He pulls the sheets and blankets to cover them both.

“I do too,” she mumbles into his neck.

“Hm?”

“Your book.”

“Hm....” But he’s smiling in her hair.

He holds her tightly and they drift back asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I had done some very, very brief research on 1920s lingerie but not too much so I'm probably incorrect for a good number of details.


End file.
